


Ruminations

by janelane93



Series: Belonging [2]
Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:21:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23038501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janelane93/pseuds/janelane93
Summary: Remy and Victor think about what happened in Prague.
Relationships: Victor Creed/Remy LeBeau
Series: Belonging [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655689
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Remy

He wasn't pouting. Remy LeBeau didn't pout. He was just sitting. On the roof. For several hours. At the back of the mansion, where if any of the others happened to come outside on such a lovely spring afternoon, they shouldn't have been able see him.

Logan had found him up here, of course, because Logan was a nosy asshole who showed off his enhanced senses, and had called to him to stop pouting and come shoot hoops with him. Remy had told him to go fuck himself.

He was not pouting.

He was thinking. And that was entirely different. It might look the same, but it was not. He did his best thinking up high, so he'd climbed out his bedroom window with a fresh pack of cigarettes and found a perch tucked into the joint of one of the eaves. He wanted to think up high, alone, and figure out how he felt about... the thing that had happened in Prague.

It had been almost two weeks since John Greycrow, Victor Creed, and he had left Prague. They'd done a quick job in Brussels and then Remy had been called back to Westchester for an X-Men thing.

He'd seen John last week, Essex had sent them to Akron Ohio, of all places, to steal samples from some chemical engineering plant.

But it had just been him and John, and Greycrow hadn't mentioned if he'd talked to Victor since Brussels, and Remy hadn't asked because that would have been weird. So it was possible. But he didn't know. He didn't know what Victor was doing or where he had gone after Brussels.

He didn't know if Victor had been thinking about him. But he had been thinking about Victor, and he didn't know how he felt about that. Which is why he had come to the roof. To figure it out.

He had never liked Victor. The man was a cold blooded killer, a murderous psychopath, quite possibly a cannibal, though he didn't know for certain. He was barely human. Unlike Logan, who was feral too, but fought hard to retain his humanity, Victor reveled in being an animal.

He had killed Genny right in front of him, had almost killed his brother Henri, and had nearly killed him in the Tunnels.

Of course, a lot of people had tried to kill him. And if he held that against someone, and refused to be friends with anyone who had attempted to murder him, he wouldn't have many friends left, would he?

Rogue had tried to kill him in Antarctica, and he'd sat next to her at breakfast this morning. At least when Victor tried to kill him it had been fast, not endless hours of angry bitter cold killing his body bit by bit while he tried to take just one more step. He shivered despite the warmth of the day. No, he wouldn't think about that. He shook his head firmly, pushing those memories back into the dark cave inside his mind where he kept them buried.

Victor was a bad person. Remy was a bad person too, though. He'd killed people. He didn't enjoy it the way Victor did, but the amount of pleasure someone got out of killing was probably less important, in the grand scheme of things, than the fact that they were doing murders. And Remy did murders. Not as many as Victor, and not anyone innocent in a very long time, but then he was just arguing now to make himself feel less guilty about his own crimes and he wasn't up here for that.

He was here to figure out how he felt about what had happened between him and Victor in Prague. He had talked himself into going to see the Antiquary alone and when Victor had shown up unannounced, he'd been angry. Victor was just about the last person on Earth he would have chosen to find out how he had spent the first eight years of his life, as the favored pet of an evil, evil man.

But afterwards, once they had returned to the apartment, he was just about to fall over the edge into the black hole of despair that was his past, he felt himself tipping and couldn't stop it. Then Victor had grabbed hold of him, had scooped him up and held onto him, keeping him here in reality. Remy couldn't fall into the past because there was someone with him, there, in the present, holding him so tightly that the storm of his memories couldn't wrench him away. And Victor had held him until the storm passed. Until he felt safe again.

No one had ever done that for him.

Then, when Remy could breathe again, Victor hadn't gloated, hadn't mocked his pain or his weakness. They'd eaten dinner. They watched a movie. Just a normal night.

Before they fell asleep, Victor had offered to kill the Antiquary. He said that he owed Remy a favor anyway. Just like that. Said he would kill the demon that still haunted his dreams. Like it would be easy.

He knew that the Antiquary was a human, a man with flesh and blood like any other. Still, he couldn't fathom anyone being able to just murder him. It was too much. The shadow of the Antiquary had been with him all his life, menacing him in the night, whispering to him in the daytime. Reminding him that he was dirty, tainted, wrong. A very bad little boy who deserved to be hurt. That would probably never go away. The monster would always be in his head. But the monster didn't have to be on the Earth as well, did he?

He supposed, if there was anyone capable of killing that monster, it would be a bigger, meaner monster. And Victor was one of the few people Remy knew who fit that bill.

He had fallen asleep tucked up against Victor again, warm and safe. It didn't make sense to feel safe in bed with a murderer. He shouldn't have felt happy. But he had.

When he had woken up the next morning with Victor on top of him, he had been alarmed for a few seconds. But he realised right away that the big feral wasn't trying to hurt him. He'd been *sniffing* him. Covering Remy's body with his own huge form. Holding him. Remy hadn't been scared, not really, but he had been - well, thrilled was probably the right word. Admitting that to himself felt wrong though.

He had never been with a feral but he'd heard enough from, and about, Logan over the years to know that sex with a feral was different. He'd wondered what that would be like, to be overwhelmed, dominated by a dangerous animal. He always thought he would be frightened. That it would hurt. That it would remind him too much of the memories he fought so damn hard to forget.

But it hadn't been frightening, even though he knew Victor was more than capable of killing him. He had assumed that Victor would be as angry and brutal as he was everywhere else. Not that he'd given it much thought before, really, because he had never imagined he would ever be in bed with Victor Creed.

When he did, inexplicably, find himself in bed with the great beast of a man, he had been amazed at how gentle Victor was, how soft his touches were. He had never known Victor to be capable of kindness, let alone such tenderness.

Remy had felt safe, protected. Enveloped in those huge arms, that big hairy body surrounding him, those hands and lips touching him, he had felt... cherished.

He had never felt quite that way with any of his lovers. And he wanted more. He liked falling asleep in Victor's arms and he *really* liked being woken up by those rough whiskers tickling his neck. He wanted to feel that way again.

But Victor was as heterosexual as they came, his life's work was fucking as many women as he could. Remy had heard him say disparaging things about gay people on more than one occasion. But he said offensive things all the time and Remy didn't know if he actually meant any of them. Victor took pride in being horrible the way other people took pride in knowing multiple languages or learning karate.

So why had Victor been tasting him like that? Why had he kissed his forehead and promised to nibble on him again next time they were together? Maybe it had been the vodka. Maybe it had been pity. Maybe it had been a joke. Maybe Victor regretted it and would never speak to him again. Refuse any jobs Essex tried to send him on with Remy so they didn't have to have any awkward conversations.

They hadn't seen each other since then. Maybe they never would.

Remy sighed and stubbed out his cigarette. He ran a hand through his hair. Then both hands. He laid on his back and stared up at the clouds. Well, he decided, there was nothing he could do but wait and see what happened.

The silence of the afternoon was pierced by the sharp sound of his phone ringing.

It was Victor.

"Hey." Remy answered it.

"Hey yerself, kid."


	2. Victor

He wasn't pouting. Victor Creed did not pout. Wade Wilson was going to be murdered if he said so much as one more word to him about it. Working with Deadpool was always a pain in the ass because Wade never shut the hell up. They were in Alaska on a job and had spent the last two days cooling their heels at a hotel in Anchorage waiting for word on where their target would be and final go-ahead from the client. And Wade had been driving him fucking insane.

Victor had a lot on his mind and he would have appreciated some peace and quiet to get his shit together, but Wade was seemingly intent on using up all the oxygen in the state, and Victor had finally had enough. He'd lost his temper, it was a miracle it took as long as it did, and now Wade had been quiet for almost half an hour, which was another miracle, after huffing "Fine, just keep pouting all day then!"

But he wasn't fucking pouting. He was thinking. Which was different.

Wade was watching TV now, and assembling some kind of fort with all the pillows and cushions from the sofa in their suite, muttering under his breath now and then about ill-tempered ferals, but at least he was mostly quiet and not pestering him.

Victor was slouched in an armchair by the window, staring out over the city and drinking a scotch. It was 10 a.m. but he didn't give a shit about when was too early to start drinking.

He hadn't seen Remy in almost two weeks, since the kid had been called away from the job they'd been on in Brussels for some X-Men bullshit or another. Why the Cajun stuck with those assholes, Victor didn't know. He'd rushed off and that had been that.

Earlier this week, Essex had called him for a job. Sent him and Greycrow to kidnap a scientist in Stockholm. There was no reason for Remy to have been there - he was stealth, not muscle, after all - but Victor had been disappointed when John had been the one to meet him at the airport. He thought he'd done a decent job of acting like his usual sunny self, but in the car on the way back to their hotel after they'd nabbed the guy, John had called him on it.

***

"Alright, what the fuck happened in Prague? Is there something in the water there that makes people assholes or something?" John demanded, one hand on the wheel as they sped down the road with the unconscious geneticist hog tied in the back seat.

"Whaddya mean?" Victor grunted from the passenger seat.

"I mean I did a job with Remy a couple days ago and he was a pissy little bitch the whole time. Now you're being a dick, even more than usual, so I wanna know why."

"The kid was grouchy, huh?"

"Yeah, and he wouldn't tell me why, which isn't like him. All he said was that his neck was lopsided, which didn't make any sense, but he refused to talk about it. So now I'm asking you -"

Victor had tuned him out, turning to look out the car window to hide the shit-eating grin on his face.

So Remy had been grumpy? Had complained about his neck being uneven? Ha. John didn't know what that meant but Victor did. He'd only had the chance to nibble on one side of the kid's neck back at the apartment in Prague before Greycrow had interrupted their romp last week. Remy had protested, but John was at the door, and Victor hadn't figured he'd want an audience, so he'd cut things short. He would have to find time to finish the job soon. Couldn't have the poor Cajun going around lopsided, could he?

***

"Oh now he's happy, I swear he's bipolar or something." Wade's voice came muttering from the pillow fort on the bed, bringing Victor back to the present.

The thought of having Remy in his clutches again had brought another smile to his lips.

"You shut yer face." He growled back, scowling.

Shit. He *did* want to have the Cajun underneath him again. He had never had the hots for a man before, had never even considered it. But he was considering it now, that was for damn sure. He'd been considering it for almost two weeks now.

What would happen, next time he saw the kid? Would Remy want a big hairy feral to paw at him like he had before? He had enjoyed it, Victor knew that, could read his scent and the way he'd reacted enough to know, and pheromones never lied even if people's mouths did. Remy had been all riled up.

And Remy was gay, he'd told Victor that night. Not bisexual, actually gay. That changed things didn't it? He had kissed two guys, he said. Victor scowled harder. Who the fuck were they, he wondered, and what kinds of things did they do to Remy? The thought of some one else touching Remy, even in the past, pissed him off. The Cajun belonged to him.

Wait.

No, he didn't. Just because he'd let Victor continue slobbering on him after he woke up to find the man on top of him, and just because he liked it in the moment, that didn't mean anything. Maybe he'd just been a good sport about it. Maybe the kid wouldn't actually want anything to do with him. Maybe he'd asked Essex not to send him on any more jobs with Victor.

Hell, it would be understandable. He had never been anything but horrible to the kid, except for that night.

Was that why he hadn't seen Remy since Brussels?

It was possible, he thought, as he scratched his whiskers and sipped his third scotch.

It was also possible that Remy was just as confused as he was. Victor didn't know how he felt, but he felt something, and that was weird for him. He wanted to be with Remy. Did Remy want to be with him?

Well, goddammit, there was only one way to find out. He stepped outside onto the balcony and reached for his phone.


	3. The Call

"Hey" 

"Hey yerself, kid."

"What'chu doin'?"

"I'm in Anchorage on a job."

"Essex?"

"Nah."

"Oh."

"Yer boy Wilson's here."

"No shit? Y're wit' Wade?"

"Yeah. I might kill him if we're stuck here much longer."

"Why?"

"He doesn't ever shut up. He's driving me nuts."

"Don' murder him, Victor, he's my friend."

"I can't make any promises. Hell, there's so much wilderness out here, plenty of hungry bears, it'd be just as easy to get rid of two bodies instead of just the one."

"Dat ain' very nice."

"Yeah well, I ain't a very nice guy."

"Sure you are. Sometimes."

"Just don't go around telling people, eh? You'll ruin my reputation."

"It'll be our little secret."

...

...

"Listen, I was thinking-"

"Don' do too much o'dat, you'll hurtcha self"

"-har har. Anyway, I figured when this job is done, I might head home for a couplea days."

"Home?"

"Yeah, I got a little cabin over in the Northwest Territories, and since I'm practically there, I might was well."

"Makes sense."

"I thought maybe you'd like to come too, if you can get away for a few days."

...

"Really?"

"Well, yeah, if you wanted. It's nice there. Peaceful. I thought you could probably use a break from hangin' out with those dweebs."

"Its not cold dere?"

"This time'a year, nah. Chilly at night, maybe."

"I don' like de cold."

"I'll keep you warm."

"You will?"

"Yeah."

"I can really come dere wit' you?"

"Do you want to?"

"Oui."

"Alright. I should be done here by the end of the week. That work for you?"

"Yeah, I c'n sneak away for de weekend."

"Good. I'll text you the details."

"Ok."

"Alright, I gotta go."

"Bye Victor."

"Bye Remy."


End file.
